


By Saffron and May Flowers

by TheMarvelousMadMadamMim



Series: This Spell We Cast [3]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Day Six, F/F, More Fluff than Smut, TWW Valentines LemonFest 2019, a sprite if you will, flight, fluff with a hint of smut, my kink is healthy supportive relationships, slightly lemony-lime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 00:10:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17672699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMarvelousMadMadamMim/pseuds/TheMarvelousMadMadamMim
Summary: It's been a long day. Hecate chooses a detour on the flight home.For TWW Valentine Lemon!FestDay 6 Prompt: Flight





	By Saffron and May Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the summer between Mildred's second and third year.
> 
> Also: here's your periodic reminder to amble on over to tumblr (@marvellouslymadmim) to find explanations behind my title choices for this series, playlists and moodboards inspired by the collection, and general fangirling.

Ada Cackle gave a weary sigh as she passed through the gates of the Magical Council. It was only the first day of Marigold Mould’s sentencing hearing, and it had already felt like a lifetime. Her own summons hadn’t come yet, but she got the distinct feeling that she would be called, most likely on behalf of the defense, to give testimony.

She was not anticipating the questions that would follow. _Why did you not thoroughly check her credentials? Did anyone else express concern? Were there any signs that she might have ulterior motives?_

She’d asked herself these same questions, a thousand times over.

There was a small, quiet shift behind her, and her heart contracted with a new ache—her wife, the one woman who had tried to save her, to save them, to save the girls from all of this chaos and catastrophe, the one who didn’t remind her of this, who simply stood beside her, who had quietly gotten dressed this morning without any question of whether or not she was coming along, because she knew Ada would need her, even if Ada couldn’t bring herself to ask.

Hecate’s hand fluttered lightly at Ada’s elbow, a small gesture relaying a deeper emotion. The first few weeks after their narrow escape from eternal ice, Ada had punished herself by withdrawing, feeling as if she didn’t deserve Hecate’s forgiveness, much less her support. It had been little things, like avoiding their usual morning love-making sessions, finding excuses to stay up late and rise early, to deny herself the simple pleasures of watching Hecate dress or holding hands as they walked through the gardens or the calming comfort of Hecate’s presence during afternoon tea. Hecate’s lack of anger had only made it worse—Ada had wanted Hecate to yell, to voice all the things she’d heard in her mind since that day, to place the blame firmly where it belonged, on Ada’s head.

Thank goddess above that her wife had been absolutely stubborn in her refusal to let Ada slip away, dragging her back into the safety of her arms and reminding her that nothing was beyond forgiveness, beyond overcoming, not with them, never with them. Granted, Hecate had done it in her usual theatrical way: Ada had slipped into the bedroom one night, long after Hecate had fallen asleep, to find the handfasting cord from their wedding ceremony atop her pillow, a silent but powerful reminder of their vows to stay through thick and thin. The next morning, Hecate had actually awoken before Ada, patiently waiting for the blonde. _We both could have done things differently_ , she had said quietly, her expressive hands turning the cord over and over in her fingertips. The rest was unspoken, yet loud and clear: they had made a promise, to always remain bound to each other. And Hecate wouldn't let guilt make liars of them. Not now, not ever.

Of course, that only produced another wave of guilt within Ada—guilt that she’d ever doubted, that she’d abandoned Hecate in the first place, that she’d broken her promise (even if only for a little while) to survive everything together.

Seeing Marigold’s face again—once a bright and happy thing, now drawn and devoid of spark—only compounded her guilt. Even after all these years, she still felt responsible for Agatha’s actions, for the way her sister destroyed lives with such thoughtless ease.

Hecate could feel Ada shrinking, could feel the sadness radiating off her shoulders in waves, and her lungs tightened with compassion. While she was no mind-reader, it was pretty easy to guess where her wife’s mind had gone.

“This isn’t your fault,” Hecate leaned in, keeping her voice a low whisper. Ada could feel the love soaking every syllable and tears sprung to her eyes in response. “Ada, you can’t possibly blame yourself for any of this.”

“Well, I’ve always believed in achieving the impossible,” Ada quipped. Her joke felt flat, due to the watery tone of her words and the furious blinking to hold back the tears. Her chest shuddered with an impulse to laugh, off-kilter and hysterical.

Now Hecate took her firmly by the elbow and moved her past the gates, to the little gravel patch where other witches and wizards were summoning their brooms and taking off into the sky.

“You’re not flying,” Hecate informed her, in a tone that brooked no refusals. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, she brought Ada’s hand to her lips, a quick kiss on her knuckles to soften the blow of her words. Ada didn’t argue—even if she was perfectly capable of flying herself (she was), the thought of having an excuse to wrap her arms around Hecate was too tempting.

Hecate, ever her white knight, ever mindful of her reputation, walked them further around the curve of the Council building, where no one else could see. She summoned her own broom from vanishment and wrapped them in an invisibility spell—no one would see Ada Cackle riding on a broom like a mere witchling, feeble and incapable.

Ada settled in behind her wife, keeping her hands on the broomstick but leaning forward so that her shoulder rested against Hecate’s back. Hecate let her right hand steer, left hand slipping back to rest on Ada’s thigh, as if she feared the blonde might fall off. Once they were fully in the air and at a level angle again, Ada released her grip on the broom and wrapped her arms fully around Hecate, snuggling into her much like she did most mornings, pressing her cheek against Hecate's back. Hecate’s hand squeezed out a beat of warm reassurance against her thigh, and Ada could feel the tension leaving her thin frame.

“Let’s take the long way home,” Hecate suggested. It was summer, they had no reason to rush back to the Academy.

“Whatever you think is best,” Ada returned demurely. Even with the wind whipping around them, she could hear the steady sounds of Hecate’s heart and lungs, a reassuring symphony. Hecate hummed in acknowledgement and the sound vibrated against Ada’s cheek, filling her with a simple warmth.

Ada fell quiet again, and Hecate hated that she couldn’t see her face. They’d sat side-by-side at the trial, their hands clutched together, hidden by the folds of Ada’s purple skirt, and it had taken every ounce of Hecate’s self-control not to spend the entire time simply watching Ada for signs of distress. If she’d had her way, they wouldn’t have even gone, but she knew that Ada would have been more miserable sitting at home, imagining what was being said, rather than simply hearing it for herself.

It was only the first day, but Ada hadn’t been mentioned (yet). Marigold had thankfully pled guilty to the charges against her, but the Council had deemed it necessary to hold a full hearing before deciding upon her sentence. Which meant hundreds of questions and answers, most of which Marigold had been surprisingly forthcoming in giving.

It still baffled Hecate, how anyone could be swept away by Agatha. Though the woman could be extremely persuasive when she wanted to be (a trait her twin sister shared in equal measure, though their motivations and methods were entirely different), Hecate was always a bit awed at all the ways she was able to draw broken and disillusioned women to her and use them for such catastrophic gain.

Hecate’s left hand rubbed her wife’s thigh appreciatively, silently saying a prayer of thanks that she’d had the extremely good fortune of being drawn to this twin, the one who always brought out the best and the brightest in those around her. Ada held her tighter in response, and Hecate felt a ripple of contentment.

The long way home included a lazy loop over a lovely little pond that Ada had always declared picturesque ( _excellent source of pondweed and other aquatic ingredients_ , in Hecate’s view). Hecate peered down at the shimmering waters, deep blue tinged with green, the sun creating dancing flashes of silver on the surface.

Hecate Hardbroom was generally not one to act on impulse, but then again, Ada was her exception in so many things. Before she could reconsider, she vanished their shoes and stockings and shot downwards.

Ada gave a small cry of surprise, tightening her hold around Hecate’s waist as they picked up speed. Hecate’s left arm reached further out, crossing Ada’s stomach and holding onto her hip as if anchoring her, making Ada feeling much safer than she should have, given the speed and angle of the broom.

Hecate leveled out, letting their bare feet skim across the top of the water, soaking the hems of their dresses as the water splayed out around them, leaving small waves in their wake.

The coolness of the water made Ada give a small yelp of surprise, which tumbled into a rush of laughter. She could hear Hecate’s breathless chuckles as well, could feel the rapid beating of Hecate’s heart against her palm as she continued to hold on tight.

Hecate steered the broom in easy, lazy figure eights, keeping the tips of their toes along the surface of the water. Ada kept herself pressed against Hecate’s back, though her grip relaxed and her hands began an easy exploration of her wife’s body, lightly grasping at Hecate’s breasts, slipping down to trace the row of buttons down her stomach, slipping around to fill themselves with Hecate’s hips before coming back up again. Hecate’s left hand wrote out her response in looping circles across Ada’s thighs, switching from light touches to more determined pressure, nails trilling along Ada’s body in the way that she knew always left a trail of shivers and heat.

Hecate released her grip on the broom and leaned further back, further into Ada and her wonderful hands, giving a small smirk as she felt the light nip of Ada’s teeth through her dress, right along the line of her shoulder. She felt a small measure of victory—the blonde certainly wasn’t thinking of Marigold Mould or the Council in this moment.

She sensed what was coming, just before it happened—but Ada was too quick for Hecate to do anything to prevent it. She felt Ada’s grip tighten and then suddenly, she was crashing down into the water with a shriek of surprise.

“Ada Cackle!” Hecate sputtered as she came back up to the surface, feet kicking furiously to keep her head above water.

“So witches really do float,” Ada mused, completely unrepentant.

Hecate set her face into a scowl and grabbed her wife’s ankle, wrenching her into the water as well. Ada came up laughing, completely unsurprised (honestly, she would have jumped in, if Hecate hadn’t pulled her, because it only seemed fair).

“I’m being a good wife and trying to do something _nice_ for you,” Hecate berated her, in mostly-feigned anger (her dress was wrapping around her legs in the water and that truly wasn't a welcome feeling). “And you behave like an absolute school girl!”

“Quite true, and I’m very sorry, my love.” Ada’s words might have had more impact if she wasn’t still grinning with absolute insincerity, eyes twinkling with the kind of mischief that made Hecate’s stomach flip with knowing anticipation. With a theatrical snap of her fingers, Ada sent her clothes to the shore, neatly laid out to dry in the afternoon sun. “I’ll have to find a way to make it up to you, I suppose.”

She swept her arms through the water, swimming backwards and watching Hecate with an expectant air.

“I should refuse,” Hecate announced. However her eyes were paying particular attention to the water, finding the outline of Ada’s body beneath.

“You should. But you won’t.”

Hecate gave an exasperated sigh and dove underwater. When she re-emerged, she was much closer to Ada and completely disrobed as well.

“You are a brat,” she informed her wife, pulling her closer.

“It’s your fault for spoiling me,” Ada returned easily, giving her a quick kiss. Hecate gave a small sigh in response. Yes, thank the Goddess in all her wisdom that she’d fallen for this twin. This twin, who was currently needling her with an air of unadulterated glee. “I thought you were supposed to be the strict disciplinarian, my dear.”

Hecate silenced her with a kiss, slipping her tongue past that infuriatingly smug smile. The water was deliciously cool, their bodies brushing against each other as they moved to stay afloat, easily finding a rhythm they’d created and recreated for so many years now. Hecate magicked her hair down, knowing full well the effect it had on her wife, who gave a small burble of approval, hands immediately going to Hecate’s scalp, massaging and gently pulling, encouraging and deepening the kiss.

Eventually they broke away for air. Hecate lightly bumped her forehead against Ada’s, noses brushing, breaths still shared.

“What am I going to do with you?” Hecate asked quietly, tone tinged with a feigned air of hopelessness and exasperation.

“Well, I have a rather long list of suggestions,” Ada supplied helpfully. Hecate laughed, a low, rippling chuckle that never failed to send a bolt of warmth through Ada’s stomach.

Hecate hummed, “I’m sure you do.”

Her thigh was slipping between Ada’s, pulling her closer again, delicately biting the blonde’s bottom lip. She gave a slight hiss as Ada’s hand tweaked her nipple, already taut from the cold water.

“I’m so glad we took the long way home,” Ada informed her, words warm with adoration and gratitude. Her palm was pressing into Hecate’s skin, slipping down her ribcage and around her hips, pulling her closer in so that her lips could gently create constellations of kisses across Hecate’s neck and collarbone.

Hecate let her body slacken, let herself drift easily as she gave herself over to Ada’s hands and Ada’s mouth, fully certain that her wife would keep her afloat, as in all things. She closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sun.

“Me, too,” she breathed. “Me, too.”


End file.
